Please, would you proofread my text

Status
Not open for further replies.

Bassim

VIP Member
Joined
Mar 1, 2008
Member Type
Student or Learner
Native Language
Bosnian
Home Country
Bosnia Herzegovina
Current Location
Sweden
This is the eight part of my text "ON MONEY". Please, would you proofread it.

Literature and history are filled with examples about how money had ruined human relations. People who once had been close to each other, suddenly became the worst enemies. Brothers and sisters who would sacrifice themselves for each other, now because of disputed inheritance were ready to kill each other. Friends who shared everything and behaved as if they had the same soul because of the unpaid debt, would never talk to each other again. Neighbours would quarrel after one of them did not pay off the loan and the same happened when the countries became involved in a money dispute. Sometimes they would settle their problems by war, causing death of thousands of innocent victims and destruction of the cities and villages.

Now I would like to leave literature and history behind and tell the story from my own experience. One summer day my wealthy neighbour died. He left behind about half a dozen children, who at the time of his death were all grown-up men and women. He was one of the richest men in my town, a landowner whose family was very old and respectable.

I remember him as an old man when he was widowed, walking around and sneaking in other people’s property. One of my neighbours once caught him while the old man was trying to steal eggs in his hencoop. It was around dawn and when he asked the old man what he was doing, he answered that he was searching for a weasel which he saw around the previous night. He could not explain how a dozen of eggs have ended up in his bag.

I did not like the old man. He was intimidating with his tall body, tanned, wrinkled skin and large, claw-like hands. He had always a blue beret on his head and wore blue, dirty overalls. There was a permanent stench of cow dung around him which made me sick. Although he was passed seventy, there was something in his gait which reminded him of a panther, ready to pounce at his prey.

Sometimes he met me when I was playing in my orchard and he would ask me how my school was going and I answered that everything was well. He never stopped but walked on, his head turning left and right as if looking for a chance to steal something.

There was a large funeral procession which I could watch from the window of my room. There were five imams who led the procession and hundreds of people behind them carrying the old man’s body covered in white.

Some weeks later, I was at the window again, watching this time many cars arriving to the old man’s house. My father told me that his children had come to divide the inheritance. His children had with them their own children and grandchildren so the house and its surroundings were filled with people.

In the afternoon I went into our orchard to pick raspberries. I hardly started to pick them when I saw two of the old man’s sons come into their orchard. They were about fifteen meters from me. One was older, about fifty, almost bold and dressed in a dark blue suit, and the other was about thirty, dressed casually in jeans and white t-shirt. They both were tall and strong men. The older lived in a city not far away from our town while the younger lived with the old man and I knew him well. They did not see me because of the high canes and plenty of blades, or maybe they ignored me because they had more important things to think about.

“You are so greedy,” said the younger.
“I only take what belongs to me according to the law,” answered the older.
“I know,” said the younger. “But you never visited us. It was my wife and myself who took care of him. It was we who wiped his bottom when he could not take care of himself. You didn’t deign one single telephone call and now you want your full share. If mother were alive, she would have died of shame.”

“You must be mad!” said the older, raising his voice. “I’ve family also. My children are going to study; I want to send them abroad to learn languages...”
“But you have your own company, your house, two cars...Why do you need more?”
“There’s nothing to discuss about. I’ve already told you.”
“You’re a real swine. May you be cursed the rest of your life!” shouted the younger.
And then I heard a resounding slap, a cry and I saw the younger brother lying on the ground, his left hand covering the left side of his face.
“You’re hitting your own brother because of the bloody money!” The younger was still lying and crying like a child. It was an unbelievable scene and I asked myself if I was dreaming.
“You greedy swine,” he sobbed hitting the grass in front of him with his fists.
The older walked by without giving him a glance and disappeared into the house. I was so upset that I could not taste any raspberries. I could not bear to listen to his sobbing anymore and I walked to the other side of the orchard, away from the abyss which started to open and which would one day devour humankind.
THE END
 
Last edited:

luschen

Member
Joined
Apr 5, 2011
Member Type
Interested in Language
Native Language
English
Home Country
United States
Current Location
United States
I am not a teacher, but I will give my opinion

This is the eight part of my text "ON MONEY". Please, would you proofread it.

Literature and history are filled with examples [STRIKE]about[/STRIKE] [of] how money [STRIKE]had[/STRIKE] [has] ruined human relations. People who once had been close to each other[STRIKE],[/STRIKE] suddenly became the worst enemies. Brothers and sisters who would sacrifice themselves for each other, now because of [a] disputed inheritance were ready to kill each other. Friends who shared everything and behaved as if they had the same soul [now] because of the unpaid debt, would never talk to each other again. Neighbours would quarrel after one of them did not pay off the loan and the same happened when [STRIKE]the[/STRIKE] countries became involved in a money dispute. Sometimes they would settle their problems by war, causing [the] death of thousands of innocent victims and [the] destruction of [STRIKE]the[/STRIKE] cities and villages.

Now I would like to leave literature and history behind and tell the story from my own experience. [either say "tell the story of my own experience" or "tell a story from my own experience" the second is better in this case since you are not telling your WHOLE experience, just one story from it] One summer day my wealthy neighbour died. He left behind about half a dozen children, who at the time of his death were all grown-up [ I would prefer adult here ] men and women. He was one of the richest men in my town, a landowner whose family was very old and respectable.

I remember him as an old man when he was widowed, walking around and sneaking in other people’s property. One of my neighbours once caught him while the old man was trying to steal eggs in his hencoop. It was around dawn and when he asked the old man what he was doing, he answered that he was searching for a weasel which he [STRIKE]saw around[/STRIKE] [had seen] the previous night. He could not explain how a dozen [STRIKE]of[/STRIKE] eggs [STRIKE]have[/STRIKE] [had] ended up in his bag.

I did not like the old man. He was intimidating with his tall body, tanned, wrinkled skin and large, claw-like hands. He [STRIKE]had[/STRIKE] always [had] a blue beret on his head and wore blue, dirty overalls. There was a permanent stench of cow dung around him which made me sick. Although he was [STRIKE]passed[/STRIKE] [over] seventy, there was something in his gait which reminded [STRIKE]him[/STRIKE] [me] of a panther, ready to pounce at his prey.

Sometimes he met me when I was playing in my orchard and he would ask me how my school was going and I answered that everything was well. He never stopped but walked on, his head turning left and right as if looking for a chance to steal something.

There was a large funeral procession which I could watch from the window of my room. There were five imams who led the procession and hundreds of people behind them carrying the old man’s body covered in white.

Some weeks later, I was at the window again, watching this time many cars arriving [STRIKE]to[/STRIKE] [at] the old man’s house. My father told me that his children had come to divide the inheritance. His children had with them their own children and grandchildren so the house and its surroundings were filled with people.

In the afternoon I went into our orchard to pick raspberries. I hardly started to pick them when I saw two of the old man’s sons come into their orchard. They were about fifteen meters from me. One was older, about fifty, almost [STRIKE]bold[/STRIKE] [bald] and dressed in a dark blue suit, and the other was about thirty, dressed casually in jeans and white t-shirt. They both were tall and strong men. The [STRIKE]older[/STRIKE] [elder] lived in a city not far away from our town while the younger lived with the old man and I knew him well. They did not see me because of the high canes and plenty of blades [not sure what this means - maybe "brush and high grass'?], or maybe they ignored me because they had more important things to think about.

“You are so greedy,” said the younger.
“I only take what belongs to me according to the law,” answered the [STRIKE]older[/STRIKE] [elder].
“I know,” said the younger. “But you never visited us. It was my wife and [STRIKE]myself[/STRIKE] who took care of him. It was we who wiped his bottom when he could not take care of himself. You didn’t deign one single telephone call and now you want your full share. If mother were alive, she would have died of shame.”

“You must be mad!” said the older, raising his voice. “I’ve family also. My children are going to study; I want to send them abroad to learn languages...”
“But you have your own company, your house, two cars...Why do you need more?”
“There’s nothing to discuss about [should be either "nothing to talk about" or "nothing to discuss"]. I’ve already told you.”
“You’re a real swine. May you be cursed the rest of your life!” shouted the younger.
And then I heard a resounding slap, a cry and I saw the younger brother lying on the ground, his left hand covering the left side of his face.
“You’re hitting your own brother because of the bloody money!” The younger was still lying and crying like a child. It was an unbelievable scene and I asked myself if I was dreaming.
“You greedy swine,” he sobbed hitting the grass in front of him with his fists.
The [STRIKE]older[/STRIKE] [elder] walked by without giving him a glance and disappeared into the house. I was so upset that I could not taste any raspberries. I could not bear to listen to his sobbing anymore and I walked to the other side of the orchard, away from the abyss which started to open and which would one day devour humankind.
THE END


I don't know if I caught everything, but you did a good job
 

Bassim

VIP Member
Joined
Mar 1, 2008
Member Type
Student or Learner
Native Language
Bosnian
Home Country
Bosnia Herzegovina
Current Location
Sweden
Dear luschen,

Thank you very much for correcting my mistakes.
I really appreciate your help and you have done a great job.
 
Last edited:
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top